"We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only when we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention."
I
write this from the passenger seat of my black Kia Sedona minivan
(2005). We are currently working our way through Idaho. Yesterday’s
travels across arid pastureland and barren nothingland have given way
to the green rolling hills outside Boise.
Now
we are moving past civilization, passing brown rocky foothills
polka-dotted with scruffy little bushy-tree-like plants that seem
determined to grow no matter what. I find myself pondering the road
trips of my youth.
My
father remembers only one family vacation from his childhood. He was
determined his children would remember many more. So, we took a lot
of road trips.
When
I think back to those trips, I remember how seatbelts were optional.
My sisters and I would take turns lying down between the seats of the
bug-like Toyota minivan, across the rolled-up sleeping bags nestled
tightly across the floor. It was by far the most coveted position,
and there was no small argument surrounding it at any given moment.
I
remember traveling to Utah, feeling like it was a pilgrimage to the
seat of my religion, and visiting Temple Square. It was amazing to be
around so many of my faith.
I
remember my grandparents in Brigham City. I remember visiting my
grandpa’s mom-and-pop pharmacy, and my grandpa letting me pick
out a Jolly Rancher candy stick. I remember swinging on the ancient
swing set in the shade of grandma’s backyard cherry tree. I
remember sleeping on a feather pillow for the first time in my life
up in the attic room of my grandparents’ house.
I
remember how challenging it was to put up tents when we arrived at a
campground after dark, because my dad wanted to get as far as
possible that day so we would arrive at our destination sooner the
next. We rarely knew when or where we would bed down for the night
until a helpful sign on the interstate informed us there was a KOA
just ahead.
I
remember Yellowstone, Disneyland, Crater Lake, Mt. Rainier, Ocean
Shores, Castle Rock, the Olympic National Forest (did you know that
it’s a rain forest? It is).
Many
things are different for my children on this trip than they were for
me back then. The only portable electronic that existed then was the
Walkman. Now one of my children is watching a DVD on a portable DVD
player, while another is playing Angry Birds on my husband’s
tablet. Still another is watching a PBS show I downloaded to my
tablet. One is reading a book.
I
feel too old to deal with tents and air mattresses, so we stay in
hotels I booked several weeks ago online. Nothing is ever closed on
Sunday anymore, so we don’t have to worry about finding
ourselves out of gas if we travel on the Sabbath (yes I feel like a
sinner when I do this).
Our
maps are always up-to-date because we just printed them out last
night, complete with estimated travel times and step-by-step
directions. And if we get into trouble, help is usually only a
cellphone call away.
But
some things haven’t changed. Children still ask “how much
longer?” when it has only been 30 minutes into the day’s
driving.
Despite
having electronic entertainment at their fingertips that a child from
my generation thought was only in science fiction novels, today’s
8-year-old can still claim to be bored.
There
is still nothing at all to see in Nevada.
It
is still astonishing how many bugs hit your windshield at 70 miles
per hour.
Dads
still grumble about the price of gas being “so high” when
the price difference between stations on the road and those at home
is about 3 cents per gallon.
Sandwiches
and fruit from the big red cooler in the back still taste really
great when the car is hot and stuffy and you get out to stretch your
legs at a rest area.
So
far, I have already learned a lot on this trip. Port-a-potties smell
much better than they used to. Idaho actually has some really
beautiful vistas (surprisingly, it is not all just cows and potatoes
as was my previous impression).
The
alphabet game can now be accomplished in about 15 minutes, thanks to
all the various signs and billboards that dot the modern interstate.
If you want your children well-rested for the next day of travel,
don’t let them talk you into having their own hotel room. Rest
areas are one of America’s greatest inventions.
Perhaps
the best part, the reason I think the Great American Road Trip is a
tradition worth preserving, is the hours of forced togetherness. In
today’s busy world of overscheduled children and overstressed
parents, how often do we spend 10 hours straight in the same room as
our children?
Although
I do not miss sleeping in tents, I miss the shared misery in working
together as a family to put them up as fast as we could in the rain.
It made for great stories later.
I
love seeing all my family together in one place doing something —
anything. With all our other engagements in our regular life, it
seems like we must fight to carve away that kind of time.
That
fight feels a bit easier on the road — it can’t really be
rushed (at least no more than five miles over the speed limit).
Offenses pop up quickly, but so do apologies. Joy is found in little
things — horses out the right window; a rainbow on the left. Oh
my gosh, there’s still snow at the top of the mountain up
ahead!
I’ll
take the port-a-potties, the crummy fast food, the stuffy heat and
the odd smell developing from an old diaper that dropped somewhere
within the recesses of the over-packed car. Because, eight days
undivided with my family is worth it (even the time spent in Nevada).
Emily
Jorgensen received her bachelor's degree in piano performance from
Brigham Young University. She earned her master's degree in
elementary music education, also at BYU. She holds a Kodaly
certificate in choral education, as well as permanent certification
in piano from Music Teacher’s National Association.
She
has taught piano, solfege, and children’s music classes for 17
years in her own studio. She has also taught group piano classes at
BYU.
She
is an active adjudicator throughout the Wasatch Front and has served
in local, regional, and state positions Utah Music Teachers'
Association, as well as the Inspirations arts contest chair at
Freedom Academy.
She
gets a lot of her inspiration for her column by parenting her own
rambunctious four children, aged from “in diapers” to
“into Harry Potter.” She is still married to her high
school sweetheart and serves in her ward’s Primary.